


can i get there by candlelight?

by bellemon



Series: Jonsa Week 2017 [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Jonsa week, Stardust AU, day 6: stars, does it really count, honestly it's just them in that one scene, just a lil thing, might make this longer, not even any making out so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 16:18:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12535944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellemon/pseuds/bellemon
Summary: All Jon wanted to do was bring a a star home and earn the love of the most amazing woman in his little village. How was he supposed to know that the star would be a living, breathing girl who's a lot more trouble than she's worth?





	can i get there by candlelight?

**Author's Note:**

> Maybe one day i'll make this longer but I gotta finish all the writing projects I already have lmaoo.

Sansa’s screaming, arms around his waist, and his hand is burning, burning, burning, and then -

 _Light._ It engulfs them, pure and white, and then Jon can feel that lifting sensation. Except this time, he can also feel Sansa holding onto him, anchoring him to the world. The first time he’d traveled by candlelight, he’d felt an odd feeling of floatiness, like he wanted to drift away until he met the stars. But the weight of her body keeps him here; reminds him of where he belongs. 

Jon thinks it’s a welcome feeling. He hasn’t felt anything _welcoming_ since he started his travels beyond the wall. 

It doesn’t last long. When the light clears, and they are dropped, there is no Wintertown, no streets full of shops, no home at the center of the town, no Arya to welcome him and tease him, and certainly no Val to bring Sansa to (although, Jon finds, that doesn’t make his stomach drop the way he would think it might).

No, they do not find themselves at Wintertown when the light clears. They find themselves in the midst of a lightning storm - or, more accurately, the forefront of one. Sitting on a cloud, in the  middle of the sky, while rain crashes around them. 

“Oh.” Sansa is the first to speak. “My. _Gods._ ” She turns to Jon, eyes blazing with accusation. “What did you _do_?” 

Jon recoils out of her grip, leans back a little. “What did _I_ do? What did _you_ do!”

“What do you think I did? ‘Think of home,’ you said. Well guess what, I thought of my home, you thought of your home, and look where we are now!”

“Wait. Just wait. You thought of _your_ home? The _sky_?” His voice is incredulous.

“What did you _think_ I’d imagine, you buffoon!”

“My home! My home - I obviously meant _my home_!”

“Wow, you could have been a _lot_ clearer about that, couldn’t you?” she has to screech over the commotion of the sky, but sound of her voice is much more frightening than the rumbling thunder, the fury in her eyes much more blinding than the flashing lightning. She’s a vision when she’s angry, even though her red hair has lost its color in the gloom, lost its silkiness in the downpour. It must be her eyes, bright and furious and so, so blue -

 _Okay, Jon,_ he imagines Ed telling him. _Snap out of it._ He snaps back. “Oh, I guess I’ll keep _that_ in mind. Suppose you’ll want detailed instructions, next time? A manual, perhaps? I’ll just ask the witch for a reprieve and _write one out for you,_ how does that sound?”

She gives a frustrated growl, uncharacteristically wolf-like. “Obviously not you...you _moron_!”

And he’s so _tired_ of it. Tired of her constant whining, tired of her _ungratefulness_ , tired of her inability to cooperate, that he finally breaks. “I’m the moron? Me? Please, remind me who fell for the witch’s tricks? Who got us into this situation in the first place? My _gods,_ you’d think a star would have a little more _common sense_ and not be so spoi - ”

Abruptly, he cuts himself off. It’s the look on her face, the way her shoulders fall. And then she sniffles.

_Oh my gods, I’ve made her cry._

“Don’t stop on my account,” she snaps, voice petulant. “Go on. Finish what you were saying.”

“No, I wasn’t saying anything,” his voice has softened now. He can barely hear it over the storm. _I’m sorry,_ he’s about to say, but she doesn’t let him.

“You know, you’re nothing like the way human men are supposed to be. You’re supposed to be gallant and sweet and chivalrous. You’re just...just a….rude, annoying, _useless,_ bastard!”

The would-be apology gets sucked back into Jon’s throat, but before he can replace it with equally biting words, something jumps out at them from below, and falls over them. By the time he realizes it’s a net, they are both already caught up in it, limbs tangled with the hemp and each other. She collapses into him, her face knocking into his neck, and he falls back onto the cloud.

The airship rises a few seconds later, and he’s trying to get out the dagger at his waist when the man at the hull of the ship calls out. “Well, look what we have here! A coupla _lightning thieves!_ ”

Jon has never heard Sansa swear. He can only hope that she doesn’t notice how much his heart stirs when she says, in her sweet voice, “Oh _shit._ ” **  
**


End file.
